National Pi Day was a Pie in the Face


*My Pi Day went about as good as it looks in the pic…*

love holidays. I love any reason (especially the silly ones) to celebrate something. AND I love pie. Low and behold, Nation Pi Day comes around and I…forget. I forgot it was pie day! How dare I?

First, I had the most terrible day at work. I did the work of three people, exhausted my body as well as my patience. Still, I dedicated myself to going to my normal Tuesday Zumba class. It was fantastic as always, but it left my body near dead.

Then, I remembered it was March 14th, 3.14, PI DAY! Very quickly, I resolutely decided that pie was to be acquired like. Now. It was seven pm on a Tuesday and I was on the hunt for a slice of pie. The plan was to stop by, grab the pie, and go home and watch Downton Abbey with a blanket and said pie.

That was not how it went at all.

The most popular place to get pie in my town is Village Inn. There was even a sign saying they were having free pie for Pi Day. Pie. That’s free! There was no other choice. My mom and I pulled in to a full parking lot and walked inside. Too bad that’s where the good feelings stopped. There was a whopping four employees in the restaurant, a line of half a dozen waiting to pay and leave, and just as many waiting to be seated.

The hostess took my name and the count of two people and, with a dry okay, we sat to wait. Ahead of us, there were a few parties of two or three and a rambunctious party of six. I sat next to one of the young men in the party of six, listening to them take selfies and then joke about their own faces. Mom sat on the end of a bench, next to a pair of standing men that were engrossed in the subject of alternate dimensions.

I’m talking full on nerd. As in, “This pie will be twice as nice because it is free.” “But would it be twice as nice in an alternate universe where pie was half as nice as pie in our universe.” “But would that pie be dark matter, anti-matter? Therefore, would it be pie at all?” I was like, “It’s free pie! Don’t question it.” (In my mind, of course. I’m not one to keep nerds from what makes them happy.)

Once our name was called we were sat at a booth near the door, only a thick pane of Plexiglas to distract me from the constant flow of people. I sat down, scooted in, and placed my hands on the table, only to notice it was as slanted as the steep side of Kilimanjaro. No lie, the waitress placed my drink on the table and I had to hold it tilted so it didn’t spill out or slide onto the floor. The food was good, even the parts I ordered and didn’t get and the parts I didn’t order and got.

The point of this whole outing was for pie, right? Well, before I could even mention golden crust, she laid the ticket on the table and disappeared into the great unknown. It took us a lot of awkward waving and some finger tapping before she made her way around to us again. When she did, I grabbed her attention and told her we would love some pie. Her exact words were, “I was getting to it. Be patient.”

I’m sorry??

I smiled at her and just asked for the pie to-go. The next day, I finally got to my pie. Needless to say it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I imagined.

The lesson in all this?

Go to Polly’s for pie.




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